Cultivation starts with picking up attributes

The night broke beneath a thunder that was not of the sky.

A deep, resonant hum rolled through the mountains of the Feilun Sect, shaking the stone foundations and setting talismans fluttering like startled birds. Disciples jolted awake across the terraces. Spirit beasts howled from their pens, their eyes flashing as though the very marrow of the earth had stirred.

Tian Shen was already moving before the second tremor struck. His spear flared silver as he stepped onto the northern battlements, Core burning hot and steady. Around him, the Root Division emerged with the precision of a single body—armor clasped, weapons glowing faintly with embedded formations.

Below the ridge, the night was alive with a shifting mist. It pulsed in slow, deliberate waves, carrying a scent of iron and foreign qi that did not belong to the Central Region. Lights flickered within the haze—lanterns of pale blue fire, moving in perfect synchrony.

"They come as one," Feng Yin said quietly as she joined him. Her sword was already drawn, its edge reflecting the ghostly glow. "No scattered skirmishers this time. A full force."

Tian Shen's eyes narrowed. He extended his senses, silver threads of perception weaving across the dark. Each flicker of light in the mist resonated with a qi pattern both alien and familiar—patterns he had clashed against before. And there, at the heart of the formation, pulsed a rhythm of power stronger than before, bound to an artifact that bent the surrounding air like warped glass.

"They've strengthened their gauntlets," he murmured. "And they march under unified law. This is not a raid. This is an invasion."

Elder Su approached with quiet steps, his own aura tightly contained. "The outer sentries have fallen back," he said. "No casualties yet. They report at least three obelisks moving with the enemy, each carried by warlocks who chant as one. The obelisks bend local qi into obedience." His eyes, sharp despite the calm, shifted to Tian Shen. "This will not be a battle of strength alone."

"Then we fight with precision," Tian Shen said. "Root Division, hold the north and west ridges. Azure Phoenix allies, reinforce the eastern flank. Talismans are to remain unbroken until I give the order."

The disciples answered as one, their voices steady despite the tremors that continued to roll through the mountain.

As the mist neared the first defensive terrace, the foreign army came into view. They were clad in blackened armor traced with glowing veins of crimson qi, their faces hidden behind masks etched with runes of war. Each soldier moved in perfect rhythm, their steps beating like a single heart. Behind them, three towering obelisks floated on platforms of chained light, their surfaces alive with shifting sigils that drank the very essence of the surrounding air.

A horn sounded—low, unearthly, vibrating through bone and spirit alike.

The first wave surged forward.

Feilun archers unleashed a volley of spirit-forged arrows, talisman tips igniting in streaks of blue fire. The arrows struck true, detonating against the enemy ranks—but instead of falling, the soldiers absorbed the blasts, their armor shimmering with a translucent red sheen. The obelisks pulsed once, and the flames of the talismans flickered out as though smothered by an unseen hand.

"They're suppressing elemental qi!" a disciple shouted.

"Shift to physical strikes!" Tian Shen commanded instantly. "Channel Core force through weapons, not arrays!"

The Root Division moved without hesitation. Spears whistled through the air, blades flashed with condensed qi that burned silver and gold. The clangor of steel meeting reinforced armor rang like a thunderous drum across the terraces.

Tian Shen leapt forward, spear a streak of silver flame. He met the first enemy captain in a clash that shook the cliff. The foreigner's gauntlet flared crimson, meeting Tian Shen's thrust with crushing force. Sparks burst between them, the air rippling from the collision.

The captain snarled behind his mask, driving forward with a barrage of strikes. Each blow carried the weight of an entire formation, a resonance of collective qi channeled through the gauntlet. Tian Shen parried, pivoted, and countered in a blur, silver flames singing as his spear carved arcs of light.

The obelisks pulsed again.

Instantly, the battlefield shifted. Gravity warped. Disciples stumbled as the ground beneath them softened, bending like stretched silk. Foreign warlocks chanted in unison, their voices weaving a lattice of oppressive force. Feilun formations flickered, talismans sputtering against the crushing weight of alien law.

"Break their rhythm!" Tian Shen roared. "Feng Yin—west obelisk!"

Feng Yin moved like lightning, her sword a streak of moonlight as she dashed toward the nearest obelisk. A squad of masked soldiers intercepted her, but she spun through their ranks, blade carving runes of silencing energy with each strike. Her qi flared with cold precision, freezing the air itself as she leapt toward the floating monolith.

The obelisk shuddered under her assault, but its crimson sigils flared brighter, countering her strikes with a wave of crushing force. Feng Yin gritted her teeth, anchoring her Core and pushing back, her sword ringing like a struck bell.

On the northern ridge, Tian Shen's spear clashed again with the captain's gauntlet. The enemy pressed harder, each strike faster than the last, each movement reinforced by the chanting warlocks. Tian Shen's silver flames burned brighter, but the pressure mounted. The enemy's law was invasive, seeking to seep into his meridians, to fracture his Core.

He let it press.

Then, with a sudden shift, he released his restraint. Silver qi exploded outward, a storm of spear-force that ripped through the captain's guard and hurled him back. The obelisks pulsed violently in response, their runes scrambling to contain the shockwave. For a heartbeat, the foreign formation faltered.

"Now!" Tian Shen shouted.

Root Division disciples surged forward, their coordinated strikes hammering into the enemy line. Azure Phoenix allies unleashed their hidden talismans, flaring with golden fire despite the obelisk's suppression. The foreign soldiers staggered, their perfect rhythm broken.

Feng Yin seized the opening. Her sword plunged into the base of the west obelisk, carving a spiral of moonlit runes. The monolith screamed—a sound of stone and law tearing apart—before shattering in a burst of crimson shards.

The pressure across the battlefield lessened instantly.

But the enemy did not retreat.

Instead, the remaining obelisks flared brighter, their sigils intertwining into a single massive array. The ground beneath the Feilun Sect trembled violently. From the shattered western ridge, a beam of crimson light shot skyward, piercing the clouds and tearing a rift in the night.

Through the rift stepped a figure taller than any soldier. His armor was forged from obsidian plates veined with molten red, his mask etched with runes that burned like stars. In one hand he carried a spear longer than a man; in the other, a gauntlet that pulsed with the energy of the fractured law.

The foreign leader had returned.

Tian Shen's silver eyes narrowed. He felt the familiar, crushing weight of the man's presence—the same force he had faced before, but stronger, more complete. The leader's gauntlet shimmered with threads of captured qi, its power drawn from the fallen obelisk.

"You," the leader said, his voice echoing through the fractured air, each word vibrating like a struck gong. "Silver flame. Mountain spear. You cracked my gauntlet before. Tonight, you will break—or I will take your Core for my own."

The Root Division tensed, but Tian Shen raised a hand. His spear flared with silver fire, brighter than the moon. "You failed once," he said, voice low and steady. "You will fail again."

The leader stepped forward. The ground split beneath his feet, crimson energy spilling into the cracks. His army shifted behind him, chanting in a single, unbroken rhythm that made the mountains tremble.

Tian Shen surged forward, silver flames streaming behind him like the tail of a comet. Their weapons met in a thunderous clash, silver and crimson colliding in an explosion of force that tore the air apart.

Around them, disciples fought with renewed fury. The Root Division struck with flawless coordination, driving back the foreign soldiers inch by inch. Feng Yin carved through the enemy flank, her sword glowing like a cold star. Elder Su directed formations with calm precision, sealing cracks in the defensive arrays as fast as they opened.

But the duel at the center consumed all attention.

Tian Shen's spear moved in blinding arcs, each thrust a fusion of perfected technique and raw will. The foreign leader countered with sweeping strikes, his gauntlet bending space and law alike. Silver flames met crimson lightning, sparks cascading across the broken terraces like falling stars.

Every collision shook the mountain. Every strike threatened to fracture the very air.

The leader's laughter cut through the chaos, deep and resonant. "You fight well, mountain child. But your Core burns too brightly. It will feed my ascension."

Tian Shen said nothing. He stepped inside the leader's guard, his spear a blur of silver light. For a heartbeat, he felt the gauntlet's crushing force falter—then he drove his weapon forward with every ounce of Core force.

The spear pierced the gauntlet.

The leader roared as silver light surged into the fracture, burning through the crimson sigils like a river of molten moonlight. The obelisks pulsed violently, their formations unraveling in a cascade of collapsing runes.

But even wounded, the leader did not fall. Crimson lightning erupted from his armor, blasting Tian Shen backward across the terrace. Stone shattered beneath the impact, silver flames scattering like sparks.

"Tian Shen!" Feng Yin's voice cut through the roar. She leapt to his side, sword raised to deflect an incoming surge of energy.

He rose slowly, silver light already gathering around his spear once more. His eyes locked on the foreign leader, unwavering despite the blood on his lips.

"This is not over," the leader growled, his voice shaking the heavens. "The Dominion rises. The Vault awakens. Next time, mountain child, there will be no retreat."

With a final pulse of crimson light, he stepped back into the rift. The obelisks flared once, then imploded into shards of broken law, their remnants scattering into the mist.

The foreign army withdrew in perfect formation, their retreat as disciplined as their assault. Within moments, only the echoes of their march remained.

Silence fell over the shattered terraces.

Disciples lowered their weapons, breaths coming in ragged gasps. The scent of burned qi hung thick in the air.

Feng Yin turned to Tian Shen, eyes sharp but soft with restrained relief. "You held him again," she said. "But he will return."

Tian Shen tightened his grip on the spear, silver flames flickering like a vow. "Then we will be ready," he said quietly. "For the next storm. For the Vault. For everything."

Above them, the stars burned cold and distant—witnesses to a war that was only beginning.